


civil war

by riffraff72



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: i might do more of these two but idk yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 16:29:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19254919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riffraff72/pseuds/riffraff72
Summary: this is something a little different, but i wanted to write an interaction between allison and the captain, because i think their dynamic is so interesting as two very hot-headed authoritative people :) hope you enjoy!!





	civil war

Perhaps it was fair to say that Allison and the Captain were not the best of friends.

 

They tolerated each other, to a certain extent; they were both adults after all and, needless to say, with both parties stuck in the house for the foreseeable future, it was beneficial to both of them that there should be _some_ mutual tolerance. This, however, was where it ended. Both adults being hot-headed and stubborn, paired with an unshakable penchant for being in charge, they clashed regularly, much to the chagrin (and upset, in the case of Pat and Kitty) of the others, and to the utter bewilderment of Mike, who could only see Allison passionately arguing with thin air.

 

That Tuesday afternoon, however, had been particularly bad. It had started over something small; the Captain had insisted that she keep the television turned to the History Channel, where there was a marathon on the inter-war arms race between Germany and the Allies, but she had grown bored and switched over to the cooking channel, something that the others loved to watch but didn’t dare suggest in the intimidating presence of the older man. The argument, however, had grown heated, and the television was long forgotten in favour of the vastly more entertaining fight between the two figures in front of them.

 

“- anyway, I have the final say on what you watch, General Dickhead! _I’m_ the one who’s alive, remember?” And with that final statement, she squared up to him and jabbed her finger onto his chest, making sure to push her finger a little further into his immaterial form, knowing the discomfort it caused them.

 

The Captain shivered and his frown deepened, judging by the smirk on her face that she did it on purpose. He swiftly turned on his heel and made to leave the room, before turning back and glowering through gritted teeth as he pointed his stick at Allison, “you just remember who’s your elder and better here, Miss Cooper. I may no longer be alive, but I will always outrank you. You’re just a jumped-up civvy who got _very_ lucky; the rest of us belonged here.”

 

With that, he left the room.

 

The awkward silence in the room was palpable. Allison, her arms crossed and the smirk long since faded from her face, looked around at the ghosts scattered about the room refusing to meet her eye, and thought about the Captain’s words. They had hurt, though she would never admit it. In private, she had thought the same thing; she _had_ got lucky, and though she would never admit it to the old bastard, she didn’t feel as though she belonged. Though it shouldn’t matter, though she shouldn’t be offended that some ghosts that only she could see didn’t fully accept her as the rightful owner of Button House, it did still sting. They were all stuck together, and it hurt that they wouldn’t accept that. She left, shaking her head slightly at Kitty who made to follow her.

 

\----------

 

Several hours had passed since the disagreement between the Captain and Allison. The rest of the ghosts were watching Julian and Robin’s chess match, enthralled at a particularly aggressive match between the two. The Captain, however, was still absent. Allison was sat outside the house on the grass, watching the gradually setting sun and wishing that Mike was home; she was sick of spectres for today.

 

She was so deep in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the silent steps of the older man marching towards her, nor the alarming crack of his permanently ageing joints as he knelt down to sit beside her. “Ah, Allison.” She jumped. “I’ve been looking for you.”

 

Allison felt uncomfortable. It was still comparatively early days for the relationships she was forming with the ghosts; most, if not all of them had not learnt to trust her yet, and the feeling was very much mutual, preferring not to be alone with any of them. They didn’t intimidate her, despite their supernatural nature. Instead, it was more so the feeling of a locked community, seemingly fronted and guarded by the Captain, and one, it seemed, she was very much not allowed to be a part of. This guarded feeling culminated in her wary manner towards the Captain, especially when a comfort found in the bravado of mocking him in front of the other ghosts dissipated when faced with a solitary encounter.

 

She mustered up the energy for a mocking salute, then turned away again.

 

The Captain’s moustache twitched. “Still annoyed, I see.”  


“Annoyed about what? Your little outburst? No, you were right. I don’t belong here.” With that, her shoulders slumped a little.

 

The Captain shifted uncomfortably. He was not used to comforting people; he’d much rather be shouting in an official, authoritative sort of way again. Still, the others had hounded him to find Allison and apologise, and admittedly he had felt a little bad about the whole sorry business. He squared his shoulders and cleared this throat; _over the top we go_.

 

“I’d just like to apologise. Frightfully ungentlemanly behaviour from yours truly, I’m afraid. And…I didn’t mean what I said.”

 

Allison didn’t make eye contact with the Captain, but moved her head to rest her chin on her drawn up knees, staring into the distance, which he took as a sign that she was listening. He continued.

 

“Awfully harsh of me to say I outrank you, really, when the fact is…I don’t. I’m dead now. Jolly shame, but true.” He gave a small laugh. “You’re in charge here, being the one who’s …well, alive and all, and I should do well to remember that. Difficult to adjust, that’s all.”

 

Allison turned her head to face him. She looked at the man’s face, carefully composed in what he probably believed to be a face of quiet dignity, betrayed by a slight uncomfortable quivering of the moustache. She sighed. “That’s not what I meant. All I want is a little _respect_ from you lot. I understand it’s difficult to adjust. Trust me, being the only one who can see what looks like a convention of very confused historical nutters is _very_ difficult to adjust to.”

 

To her surprise, the Captain gave a slight chuckle. “Yes, I suppose we are a rag-tag bunch aren’t we?”

 

She smiled, and continued. “And I know it’s difficult to suddenly have someone new here. Someone who can interact with you, and I know that that comes across as interfering sometimes. But the fact is, we’re all stuck with each other. Mike and I can’t afford to get out, and something spooky is preventing you lot from leaving. So can’t we just agree that _both_ of us are in charge? I do respect you, Captain. I just think you’re a little heavy-handed with the way you act towards me and the others. You’re not in the army anymore.”

 

The Captain slumped a little, rare for a man who took anything other than perfect posture to be a sign of bad character. “No. I suppose I’m not.”

 

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t still have some authority. The others look up to you as a leader. Whether they like it or not, they always turn to you if there’s any kind of decision to be made. And that’s great, but all I’m asking for is some mutual respect. I don’t need you to boss me around, and vice versa. We can co-exist as the only people with any sense round here.”

 

He smiled, a genuine smile that didn’t have a hint of any mocking or smugness like it usually did. “Very well, I think we can both manage that.” He went to reach out a hand for her to shake, briefly forgetting the uncomfortable consequences of doing so before making a noise of vague amusement and moving his hand up to beside his head, saluting her. She returned it, less mocking than her first but still with an air of good-natured teasing. With that, they both left to re-enter the house, silently happy that peace had been reached. 

 

 

Perhaps it was fair to say that Allison and the Captain were not the best of friends. But maybe they weren’t the worst of enemies either.


End file.
